


Light Reading

by AldreaAlien



Series: Maxwell Trevelyan [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AldreaAlien/pseuds/AldreaAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the trials at Adamant Fortress, Dorian and Maxwell have a little late night fun in Skyhold's library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Reading

Maxwell trudged the quiet halls of Skyhold. It was past midnight, but he couldn't sleep. What he'd seen in the Fade, the memories he'd regained there, continued to plague him. He _wasn't_ the Herald, not as the people believed. Not as _he_ had believed. Served him right for being so prideful about it.

His mindless wandering took him into the rotunda. There was always a subtle creepiness to the images Solas decorated the otherwise plain walls, but in the gloom, those images almost seemed to have a life of their own. A fresh motif had been started. No doubt about what they'd faced at Adamant Fortress.

A flicker of light caught his eye. It came from the library above. _Dorian_. Had to be, for his chambers were empty. Maxwell climbed the curving stairway in slow, heavy strides. The usual dry, musty smell of a library wasn't in evidence here. Perhaps because the place was too new to have gained that scent or because the room was more open than the libraries of the Chantry and Circle he was more familiar with.

And there Dorian sat in his usual spot, his nose buried in the copy of the Liberalum they'd acquired that morning. Just as he'd been for most of the day.

Maxwell leant against one of the bookshelves making up this little alcove. It almost seemed a crime to disturb the mage. "Doing a little light reading?"

Dorian's head jerked up and the air grew hotter for one brief moment. Then one corner of his mouth lifted. "I wouldn't call it _light_ , but the sooner we know who Corypheus really is—"

"I know." Maxwell took the book from Dorian's unresisting fingers and laid it to one side. "But I'm sure you would focus better after some rest."

Those gorgeous pale eyes darkened for a moment. "I… can't. Every time I try, I wind up seeing you trapped in the Fade."

Guilt twisted his stomach. They could've lost each other then, but whilst his lover had opened up about his fears, Maxwell had chosen silence. He had to. He was the Herald. He couldn't show he feared anything. Not to anyone. The Inquisition couldn't afford him stumbling, not with the world at stake.

He drew closer, tilting his lover's head to kiss him. "I'm still here, Dorian," he whispered against the mage's lips.

"Clearly, but—"

Maxwell silenced him with another kiss. A rather wicked notion fluttered across his mind and his hand slid up Dorian's thigh. If the mage couldn't sleep because of bad dreams, then perhaps he could offer a little distraction from those thoughts.

He sunk to his knees.

"Max?"

The hesitant note in Dorian's voice gave him pause. "Is something wrong?"

Dorian gave a soft chuckle. "Don't misunderstand. I approve of where this is going, really. I just…" It was hard to tell in the torchlight, but Maxwell could've sworn the mage was blushing. "Well, this isn't exactly the most private of places."

He grinned. When they first came to Skyhold, Dorian had chosen to spend his time in perhaps the most inclusive and less threatening place he could manage and, during the day, that would've indeed posed a problem. "Look around. We're alone and no one's likely to walk in." Not for several hours, when someone came to check on the ravens.

"Yes, but—" He fell silent, his breath hitching, as Maxwell unbuckled the first obstacle between him and his goal. An expanse of metal jingled.

"Relax, Dorian." Maxwell dug further into the mages convoluted armour, tugging at whatever stood in his path. The man truly had to use magic to remove his outfit as quickly as he normally did. "I promise you won't be disappointed." At last, his fingertips fell upon the final layer. Despite his previous objection, Dorian made no move towards stopping him as that barrier was also eliminated.

His hand wrapped around his lover's length, slowly stroking to the sound of Dorian's soft, appreciative murmur. His tongue snaked up the underside, stopping only to swirl around the tip before gliding down again.

On the edge of his vision, he spied the mage's fingers digging into the padded armrests. Dorian shifted in the seat and, at first, Maxwell thought his lover was trying to stop this. But such a command never came and he returned to lavishing the man with his full attention.

Giving the whole length one heavy lick from base to tip, Maxwell engulfed him and started to suck. He revelled in the partly-muffled sounds escaping his lover's lips. The edge of a leather bracer grazed over his ear. Fingers wove themselves into his hair, clutching, drawing the strands back. Rolling his eyes up, he spied Dorian sitting there with his eyes closed and biting the knuckles of one hand.

Lightly running his teeth along the sensitive skin in his grasp, he released his lover, leaving Dorian with only the slightest caress of his fingers.

The reaction was instantaneous. Dorian's hand fell from his mouth to the armrest and those pale eyes flew open. Displeasure plastered itself across that handsome face.

Maxwell grinned. "You will enjoy this a lot more if you'd relax."

"Clearly," Dorian rasped. It was a wonderful sound, rich with frustration and pleasure in equal measurements.

His grin widened. "If you're worried someone will hear you—"

The hand that was still at the nape of his neck tightened, drawing him upright as Dorian bent to kiss him. "Not at all," he breathed against Maxwell's lips.

He shoved his lover back against the chair and returned to his previous ministrations, licking, sucking and caressing his way along Dorian's whole length to the mage's ever-increasing moans. Maxwell closed his eyes and concentrated. A soft hum thrummed through his mouth as years of training in singing the Chant was focused on a more carnal pursuit.

Fingers slid over his shoulders, grasping his shirt and digging into his hair where the pressure on the back of his head grew. He heard the softest hitch in Dorian's quickening breath. It was a sound he had exulted in many times before and now let his lover slide further down his throat.

The rotunda echoed with Dorian's cry.

Maxwell kept going, stopping only when his lover was completely spent. Only then did he release him, his tongue sliding along the soft, silken underside of Dorian's length.

He brushed back a lock of hair tickling his temple and glanced up to find Dorian watching him with that adoring expression that always set off a light flutter in his gut. Right now, that warm sensation was dulled by the hot need burning even lower. "Shall we continue this in my quarters?"

A teasing smile touched his lover's lips. He gave a low chuckle. "My chambers are closer."

 _Don't I know it_. Maxwell stood, dusting off his pants as Dorian redressed. "Then lead the way."


End file.
